


The Garden Of Eden

by AuroraKant



Series: Children of Wayne Manor [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: (not literally), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff, Background Dick/Kory, Beta Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, No Smut, Omega Dick Grayson, Past Abortion, Platonic Slow Burn, Sexism, and cuddles, implied/referenced dysphoria, past pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28551732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: Dick Grayson never wanted kids - and now he has Damian.Damian Wayne never wanted a pack - and now he has Grayson.Or: two people, who rather would be anywhere else, end up becoming a family. A story of growing together.[Can be read and understood without reading Part 1 of this series]
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Children of Wayne Manor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091762
Comments: 14
Kudos: 209





	The Garden Of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> And... I am back in this universe that is... a universe now? I blame sElkieNight60 for this.   
> I mean, I also want to thank her for her encouragement - and I want to thank Gem for all her wonderful angst ideas for Damian, and the wonderful closing statement! 
> 
> Added Warning: Bruce is very dead in this fic (lost in the time stream, whatever), but his dead body appears in the very first, 300 word long portion of this fic. You can simply skip to the first line break without missing anything important.

When Damian came to the Manor, he smelled of absolutely nothing.

Of course, there were scents clinging to his clothes, Talia’s sour alpha tang, and Ra’s acidic Lazarus flavor, blood crusted underneath his fingernails… but there was no smell that was inherently Damian. Not even the scent of a pup followed him around, which was probably the reason for the pack’s violent reaction.

Dick had to agree, it was weird to stand opposite someone who just… didn’t smell. Even Cass, who had probably the faintest scent of them all, was still a noticeable presence in Dick’s nose. Damian on the other hand… if Dick couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t even know the boy was there.

Even now months later, Damian a part of their family, Dick sometimes wondered just why Damian was as different as he was. As difficult.

Not that anything was… easy right now.

No, Dick was staring at the slack and silent face of Bruce Wayne, dead to the world, killed by Darkseid. Nothing would ever be easy again, not with the cards the universe had just dealt them. The bitter smell of grief and desperation was so heavy in the Cave, it clogged up Dick’s airways, almost suffocating him.

Some of it was his own, the pain flowing out of every poor, but Dick could see Cass cry only a few feet away, and he could sense Tim falling apart in the showers just behind that wall. Even Alfred was grief stricken enough to let his control over his smell waver, something almost tar-like pouring out of the old man.

It was Damian, however, who worried him. The little face was set in stone, not even a tear making it past the big brown eyes. Something was… _wrong_.

And Dick wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it.

No one else in the Cave seemed to notice, and Dick… well, he was the oldest now, wasn’t he? He was the one who had to carry the family now – at least that’s what his brain told him, his heart a bleeding and broken mess.

He should stop looking in Bruce’s dead eyes.

Tearing his gaze away from the once so striking blue eyes, Dick looked at Damian, at the emptiness in his face… a shudder ran down his spine.

“Hey… Damian, everything alright?”

The boy looked at him, as if Dick was the one who was crazy (and maybe he was – Dick had just asked a boy whose father has just died, if he was okay), before he answered, his voice as small as his age:

“Why… why is Father so silent?”

Ice encased Dick’s heart, before it shattered on the ground, turning into a thousand pieces. Had no on…? Couldn’t Damian tell…?

But, no, Bruce’s corpse was laying on a medical cot, his body deceptively whole… it was the smell of death penetrating everything, that had told Alfred, Cass, Tim and Dick just what had happened to their pack alpha.

They had simply assumed the ten-year old in their care understood as well, why all of them were so sad.

But no…

Somehow Damian hadn’t smelled the death clinging to everything. Somehow Damian had missed the stank of decay (Or maybe Damian simply didn’t want to die – could a ten your old be already sick of death?). And now… now Dick would have to tell Damian, that Bruce was dead. That the boy’s father was dead.

“Bruce… Damian, Bruce is dead. He… Darksaid killed him. That’s why he’s so silent…”

The shock on Damian’s face was honest, and when the tears began to flow, it was Dick who offered Damian comfort, it was Dick who pressed Damian close against his chest.

* * *

Damian had always lived in a world with no smell… or, well, Damian could smell some things, but most of the time the secrets everyone else seemed to understand so naturally, were lost to Damian – because his nose couldn’t listen like his ears could.

It didn’t bother him much anymore, Grandfather’s disappointed glares a second nature, Mother’s sighs when Damian failed another test just a constant of life. Many people in the League had a bad sense of smell – most of the assassin’s his Grandfather employed were betas after all.

Only that usually when a beta started training under Grandfather, they learned to identify smells and scents and odors even with their less sensitive noses.

Damian never managed that.

He was just a failed beta, who should have been an omega.

It had been Mother who told him of his true designation and Grandfather’s meddling when it didn’t fit his impossible standards… It had been Mother who had protected him when Grandfather had given up hope that Damian could ever be useful.

Gotham had been… _different_.

There were roles here as well, but they were less defined by what Father wanted and more shaped by what society thought.

The first time Damian had met Grayson, he knew the older man was an omega, could tell at least that much, even if he couldn’t smell the emotions Grayson was emitting. And yet… Grayson was nothing like the omegas Grandfather had always told him about, nothing like the omega Damian tried to see in his reflection each night.

Instead the man had been… just that: a man. A hero. A legacy.

And now… with Father dead – and Damian’s heart jumped at the thought – Damian had no idea what would happen next. He knew what would happen should it have been his Grandfather who’d died – a Lazarus Pit would be visited – but… what did Gotham do, when a pack alpha died?

(and Grandfather wasn’t even an alpha – he was a beta, like most of the League)

Who would claim Damian? Or would he simply return to his mother?

In the end it was Grayson who stepped up, while the rest of them were still shattered. It was Grayson, who comforted Drake, then fought with him, and let him leave (could do nothing to keep him from leaving – what a sad idea of an omega he was). It was Grayson who told Todd of Father’s demise, fighting the man on top of a train, until both of them felt broken.

It was Grayson, who decided they needed Hush to play Bruce Wayne.

Because Grayson wanted to keep Damian in Gotham – even if Damian had no idea why. They didn’t even smell the same – they didn’t even smell like pack.

(or if they did, nobody had told Damian)

From what Damian understood, the law was weird in Gotham, in America. Grayson could do many things quite freely, but he couldn’t claim the title of pack alpha. If he did, the Kane side of the family – Damian’s distant blood relatives – would be allowed to question Grayson’s position, threatening his hold on Wayne Manor – and Damian himself.

And it would be legal if they did.

Grayson would lose everything, would have to change pack affiliations together with the rest of them, simply because… another related alpha had the right to question his inheritance as an omega.

A shudder went through Damian at that thought. How easy everything could be lost.

It would be easier if Grayson’s mate was here, but Grayson got a pinched look on his face when Damian asked… and it wasn’t as if he wanted to belong to some alien alpha anyway. Damian belonged to the Wayne name. And nobody could take that away from him.

If they tried, he would fight them.

Just as he had fought Drake – just as he fought Grayson when the omega insinuated that they were the same.

Damian was a proud beta – and if he doubted himself at night, standing in front of the mirror checking his body for traitorous signs otherwise… well, only Damian needed to know.

* * *

Sometimes Dick wondered if Damian loved the idea of being the Blood Son so much, because he couldn’t smell family the way the rest of them could.

Dick, even when he couldn’t look in Bruce’s face, even when just thinking of the man had made his nauseous, had never doubted his position as Bruce’s son – because Bruce smelled like family, because Bruce was his alpha.

Damian on the other hand couldn’t smell his family ties, couldn’t share his pup pheromones with the pack and get comfort in return. Dick had tried scenting him, once, when Damian had been hurt after patrol – but the scent didn’t stick, and Damian had looked at Dick as if he was crazy.

It was a look the omega received rather frequently from Damian. 

It was a dangerous game Dick was playing.

He was Batman, Gotham’s feared caped crusader, and he was the head of Wayne Enterprises, after Bruce’s acting will… he was also an omega, who theoretically could lose his entire inherence at a moment’s notice, should one of the old money assholes decide to question him.

Alfred could have stepped up and claimed pack alpha, but he had no legal ties to the family besides being in Bruce’s employ and pack. Just because all of them considered the butler to be their grandfather, didn’t mean that the law would think the same.

Jason could have used his alpha status to fight for the role… but Jason was dead and angry at the world. Angry at Dick and what was left of Bruce (a casket in the ground). Angry at himself and his body. Angry at things Dick couldn’t control.

Babs… would have been a choice, but an unlikely one. The alpha had stepped out of the public eye after her “accident” and she had never rekindled her public friendship with the Wayne family. She was still Oracle, of course, and she was still Babs, his best friend, but… she wasn’t Wayne pack alpha material (and she didn’t want to be).

(Kory was a galaxy away – and as much as it broke Dick’s heart – the skype connection between Tamaran and Gotham wasn’t good enough to ask her to come home and save him from the burden he was forced to carry – and he couldn’t ask her to give up her own duty, to break the promises she made)

Which left them with… Dick in a vulnerable position or this damned bastard Hush and his face that made Dick’s heart break.

(and a smell that made Dick want to barf – Hush had even managed to recreate Bruce’s scent, and whenever Dick caught a whiff of it, he wanted to die a little. Thomas Elliot had no right to smell like that, he had no right to remind Dick of his dead father)

So, at the end of endless sleepless nights, Dick had made a choice: he had taken what he could get.

He had moved them to the penthouse, he had solidified Damian’s place by his side, and he had taken up the Cowl. It was this – or nothing.

Even if Tim was no longer talking to him, lost on an inane search for Bruce – their father, who was DEAD.

Even if Cass sometimes looked at him, and Dick could read in her eyes that she didn’t understand him one bit.

Even if Damian barely talked to Dick, and half their conversations were either dead after two exchanges or ended in yelling.

But, no… Dick had led the Titans – and, oh, how he missed his pack, how he missed his second family – and he had ensured their safety and success again and again (until Donna). He would do the same to his primary pack as well.

He was the pack omega, the leader of the Titans, he was fucking Batman. He could get this family back together and if it was the last thing he was doing.

(if Bruce wasn’t here to step up – well, Dick would have to do it himself)

* * *

Damian watched Grayson pace.

They had lived in the penthouse for over two months now, Damian being Robin for just as long, and this was the first time Damian noticed signs of typical omega behavior in Grayson. Well, Grayson was going in heat to be more exact.

Grandfather had hired tutors who had taught Damian all about biology and how each body worked, be it sex based (male, female, and intersex) or designation based (alpha, beta, omega) and yet this was the first time Damian ever saw it for himself.

Well, some of it.

(and what a hypocrite Grandfather was)

Grayson wasn’t exactly forthcoming on the matter, and the way he was frantically running around the penthouse searching for _something_ , told Damian that Grayson would also be rather doing anything besides being betrayed by his body.

Damian watched as Grayson ran from bedroom to bedroom, checking all drawers before fluffing up the cushions and blankets needed to build a nest. Only that Grayson never got that far, instead, the man hurried out of the room the moment his hands started to linger on the soft fabrics.

Grayson’s hormones were going haywire, so much so, that even Damian’s basically functionless nose could pick up the slight changes in Grayson’s typical omega smell. It was… _disgusting_.

(unsettling – would he have smelled like this if Grandfather hadn’t intervened?)

Pennyworth was gone for the day, visiting Father’s grave – and Damian was doing his best not to think about it – which left Damian alone with the panicked man. It would be amusing, if Damian found comfort in the distress of others, but that had also been a trait Grandfather had failed to install in Damian.

Instead, he simply felt confused.

From what he understood, heats were normal in omegas – _and don’t think about it, Damian_! – of a certain age. Grayson was old enough to experience regular heats… Damian simply didn’t understand how the man could have been caught unaware by such a simply biological fact.

(and wasn’t it hilarious that Damian’s body had been artificially changed before his birth so he would be a beta and yet he had learned all about the natural beauty of their social and biological gender?)

It didn’t take long before Grayson stopped in front of Damian, the boy sitting on the couch in the living room – the place with the best overview in the entire penthouse – and asked:

“Damian… have you- have you touched anything in my medicine cabinet?”

Sweat covered Grayson’s face in a sheen, making the man look exhausted even though they hadn’t even trained today. His eyes held a glimmer that frightened Damian, something desperate visible in the eyes of his… guardian, for a lack of a better word.

“I… Why are you asking, Grayson?”

“Damian. I need to know! If you… if you touched anything, I need to know. I won’t be mad – _promise_ – but I need to know.”

It was the anguish in Grayson’s voice that made Damian talk:

“After… when Pennyworth ordered me to clean out the boxes the moving company left in your bathroom… I might have sorted them after necessity and usefulness.”

“ _Damian_ …”

The growl coming out of Grayson’s mouth reminded Damian of his Father, and the way the alpha’s voice would shake when he was disappointed or mad. But- But Grayson had promised! He’d promised he wouldn’t be mad!

Damian pressed his back against the back of the couch, trying to vanish in the fluffy cushions. But Grayson didn’t stop, he took a step towards Damian and suddenly – Damian was sure he wouldn’t be able to breathe through the stank Grayson was emitting in his desperation, if he were capable of smelling like a normal person:

“Damian… what did you do with my suppressants?!”

“I did not touch them! I promise! Only... The medicine had ingredients detrimental to omegas, so I... I threw it out. I was looking out for you!”

A beat of silence, and then Grayson sighted, all the anger flowing out of him with a giant gust of air. He basically fell next to Damian onto the couch, his T-Shirt clinging to his back from all that sweat:

“Damian… that’s not- No. You never touch someone else’s medicine and make choices like that. _Never_. You- You threw out my heat suppressants. That’s not good. That’s pretty shitty, actually.”

“But… I do not understand… you are an omega, Grayson. Shouldn’t you- shouldn’t you enjoy your heat?”

Grayson looked at him, and once again Damian felt like a puzzle the older was trying to solve. His black hair moved only slightly, when Grayson shook his head, locks of it sticking to his forehead:

“I would – If my mate was here and I had three days of vacation. As it is… I can’t risk a heat, Damian. I miss one important meeting because of it, and everyone is gonna claim I am unfit for the position I am trying to secure. It- this is far bigger than just me and my body. This is about us. This family…”

Shame built up in his stomach. Damian hadn’t- Grandfather had always said- It hadn’t been his intention- he… he felt bad. And he couldn’t understand why. A week ago, he would have denied even faintly liking Grayson, and now he felt sorry for him because of a mistake Damian himself had made.

It wasn’t-

“I am sorry. It was not my intention to cause harm to you or this… this pack.”

It hurt to admit that Pennyworth and Grayson were his pack now, that Damian no longer belonged to Mother – or even to Father, as short as their acquaintance had been. Legally, Damian was still a member of Bruce Wayne’s pack, would stay so for as long as the hoax could protect them… but mentally, Damian might be forced to consider that it wasn’t Father who was his alpha, it was Grayson who was his Batman.

“I- Just never do it again. Please. And now… now I have to call Alfred and make sure I don’t lose my mind.”

Grayson left him behind on the couch – and Damian didn’t understand why the guilt was still there, even after Grayson had seemingly forgiven him.

* * *

Life continued.

That was probably the weirdest – and worst – thing about grief and trauma: Life went on.

Dick started to feel at home in the penthouse and in various office buildings, and he managed to balance the weight of the cowl with the weight of every day life. He dressed up each night as the Bat, and while it still felt like a costume never measuring up to the real deal, the fear that his trick would be discovered got less and less.

What a batch of scent blockers could do.

And Damian… the brat grew on him.

In the beginning it had been duty that made Dick take Damian with him, and over time it grew to be a soft sense of familiar love and friendship and now… Dick wondered if this was the feeling other omegas had for their pups.

Which was scary. Terrifying. Almost… horrible.

Dick didn’t want kids.

He had never wanted them – fuck, he had done his own walk of shame after a newspaper found out that he had an abortion. It had been scary to wake up one day to a world that hated him on principle. And Dick wasn’t even forced to bear that burden alone.

The Titans had stood by his side. Kory had defended him and loved him. Bruce… the man, who had once been against Dick’s ownership of his own body, had been the first to publicly defend Dick, telling the world that his son had done nothing wrong.

And now… now it was Dick who betrayed himself?

He could feel a headache coming on – but that could also just be his heat suppressants. Ever since Damian had accidentally thrown them away a few months ago, the boy now made sure to prepare them for Dick, putting them on his bedside table almost a week before Dick actually needed them. It was sweet, in that almost stalker-ish way, Damian must have learned from Bruce.

God, it would be so much easier if Dick could just talk with Kory about all this. His mate was surprisingly insightful when it came to matters of parenthood. And he missed her. God, his heart bleed with how much he missed her…

She had left earth because of urgent matters on Tamaran almost eighteen months ago and at first they had talked almost daily, but communications had stopped five months ago after a giant sun storm destroyed half the tech on the Watchtower… that had been two weeks before his father died. The original plan, before both their lives derailed so completely, had been to think about it – and to join Kory on her home planet once Dick was ready.

Now… Dick couldn’t leave Gotham, couldn’t even talk to his mate, and it was a distant dream to leave everything behind just to travel to a far away galaxy and kiss Kory.

Which left him with Damian and his complicated feelings and Alfred and his displeasure regarding the mess this family had become.

Tim still didn’t answer the phone – Jason had vanished from the earthly plane – Cass only visited for Damian and--- _Steph_.

Dick liked Steph. Maybe he should talk to her. God knows, he needed to talk to someone.

* * *

Damian hadn’t planned on listening in. Really.

He had just been on his way to the kitchen to grab some tea and start drawing when he heard the voices coming from the living room.

Brown – he would recognize that pesky omega’s voice everywhere. What was she doing in their apartment? In _his_ home?

For once in his life Damian was thankful for his lack of smell – it made eavesdropping so much easier.

“So… to what do I owe this honor?”

“What do you mean?”

Damian couldn’t see Grayson – couldn’t see either of them, really, from his position behind the kitchen counter – but he knew the older man was wrinkling his forehead. He always did that when he pretended to be dumb or to not understand something Damian said – often, it happened in an effort to make Damian rethink his words and say them again in a calmer and more coercive manner.

(Damian hated that it worked)

“I mean… don’t get me wrong, but Dick… we only ever talk when you guys are on patrol. And yet… you contacted Babs in an effort to contact me, just to invite me over for coffee? Come on, you are Batman.”

She was right, as much as it pained Damian to admit. It was a flimsy excuse at best, and so much worse than everything Damian had come to expect from Grayson. Grayson was an exceptional liar and manipulator; a skill Damian could respect.

(especially since it was a skill he would never master, not with his inability to smell others and their emotions, not with his own lack of scent that made even the most benevolent civilian freak out)

“Okay, okay… you caught me.”

Damian wanted to hide his face from second-hand embarrassment, Grayson making a fool out of himself. It was hard to listen to – and yet Damian stayed.

Grayson’s voice had lost some of that forced cheer when he continued to speak, and suddenly it was no longer embarrassment that made Damian hide his face, but fear of what he might hear:

“It’s… um… You had a pup.”

Silence.

Damian almost didn’t hear Brown’s answer, the volume of her voice dropping low:

“Yes. Why?”

“You gave it away.”

“ _Yes_.”

Brown sounded mad – and Damian wouldn’t want to be on the other side of her glare. Batgirl might be insufficiently trained, but Damian had seen her break a guy’s finger for calling her a bitch once – the memory had stuck in his head.

“I… That’s…” – Damian could see Grayson’s fumbling in his mind’s eye and bit his lip – “That’s not what I meant, I just… you know, I never wanted kids. It’s… It’s not a secret.”

“But…?”

“How do you know that there will be a _but_? I am the face of the omega pro-choice movement after my abortion got made public by that asshole of a doctor and a newspaper picked it up.”

Grayson had had an abortion? Damian had to bite down harder, tasting blood, to keep himself from making a surprised noise. While abortions weren’t unheard of… Damian was pretty sure what his Grandfather would have said about it: That it destroyed the natural order. That omegas were strong and powerful and great (as long as Damian wasn’t one) and that they had to have children.

That was just how the world worked.

Apparently not.

Because Grayson, the Batman, the man who had taken Damian in… had an abortion. And yet he was still an omega and yet he was still Father’s child.

“And Bruce sued his ass to hell. But, no… Sentences like that always have a _but_ , Dick, and you know it. So, spit it out. Say what you have to say.”

Damian’s respect for Brown grew – Grayson needed people who told him to get out of his head. Damian couldn’t really do it – he was the pup of the pack, even if he didn’t smell like one. Even if it were Grayson’s words that made him such, and not the inherent scent he should have, but didn’t.

“Sure… I- I think of Damian as _my_ pup. _My_ kid. And… and it feels as if I’m betraying myself. Which… which is bullshit. I would make the same choice I made back then again… and again. But… but I look at this kid and I want to protect him. I want to scent mark him and call him mine… Fuck, I don’t have the time to think about this mess as well.”

For a moment all Damian could hear was the frantic beat of his own heart. What? What had Grayson just said? Yes, Damian was a member of Grayson’s pack. But so was Drake. And Cain. And, hell, even Todd with his murderous tendencies.

But Damian had never heard Grayson call someone his pup. Not even Lian, the daughter of one of his friends. And Grayson had basically raised that girl!

His senses returned to him halfway through Brown’s answer:

“- Get over yourself! Do you want to be pregnant?”

“No. Never.”

“There you have it! You are not betraying yourself! Your principles are the same! Don’t stress about it!”

“But-“

“No.” Brown’s voice was as hard as steel, and Damian braced himself – in his mind’s eye Grayson was doing the same:

“No, Dick. You’re constantly searching for a ‘but’… and yet at some point you have to stop. I gave my kid away because I was sixteen and too afraid to ask for an abortion. Maybe I am gonna have a kid when I am older, and that’s not going to invalidate the choice I made when I was younger. And whatever you do next… it won’t invalidate your past either. If Damian feels like your pup to you… congrats: you’re a father. Thing is – you already were his dad before your realization. If you feel it or not isn’t the question here – what you _do_ , that’s important.”

Damian’s heart felt as if it was trying to run away with him, and his breath came in short bursts… Had he ever been someone’s pup? He had been his Mother’s son, and that had been great… but had she ever called him her pup? Well, Grandfather certainly hadn’t.

Grandfather had called him a failure. A misshaped Beta. A worthless almost omega. A… _An experiment_.

But Grayson called him his pup. That… something broke inside of him, and something else healed – Damian had no idea what was happening, he only knew his heart ached… but in a good way.

“I… you are right, Steph… sorry, I just- Everything is pressing down on me. Kory isn’t here and… and it feels as if I am losing a part of my identity as well.”

“No, I mean… I am sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you – I get it. Lots of stress and all that… just, try to enjoy liking Damian – not all of us can claim that privilege. And that kid deserves a happy childhood – and a dad.”

Damian disappeared from the kitchen before he could hear Dick’s answer. He didn’t want to know what the man had to say. The entire way back to his room, his heart wouldn’t calm down.

What did this mean? What did THIS MEAN?

Damian had no idea. The only thing he knew… the idea of being Grayson’s pup didn’t sound as unpleasant as it should.

* * *

Weeks turned into months turned into time spent together.

Dick had finally managed to convince Damian to try out public school, the boy grumbling throughout their entire shopping trip. Nothing was good enough, everything had only subpar quality or the color was wrong… by the end of the third hour together, and the fifth store that hadn’t managed to satisfy Damian, Dick was thinking that maybe this had been a mistake.

Maybe Damian was doing it on purpose, trying to annoy Dick enough, so he would let the issue drop. It wouldn’t be the first time, only last week Damian had successfully managed to avoid doing the dishes by complaining to Alfred all day long.

Usually, Dick saw it as a sign of trust.

Damian felt welcome and comfortable enough in their home, that he allowed himself to be a brat. It was a sign of a growing and healthy child… it was a sign of healing.

With the headache thrumming behind his left temple, however, Dick mostly thought it to be a nuisance.

He was busy enough as it was, even without Damian glowering at a pink folder as if it had killed his mother. Wayne Enterprises was planning a big gala, and Dick had promised the bord of directors that Bruce would show up… The Justice League had requested Batman’s presence, and Dick had always been bad at saying no… Roy and Wally wanted to visit him, checking in to make sure Dick hadn’t been eaten by the cowl yet… And Batman and Robin had a big case they needed to deal with.

It was… _a bit much_.

But Dick would deal (would have to deal) – and he would find a folder for Damian that was… if not perfect, at least good enough.

(wow, that could also describe Dick’s attempts at parenting Damian)

The young alpha behind the counter only ever glanced at them for a second or two, busy with his homework or his phone. It wouldn’t bother Dick usually, the boy clearly still a teenager, but the alpha was going into rut – and the smell was making Dick’s headache worse.

“Dami, did you find something you like? Otherwise… I think there is another store just a few blocks down. Closer to the ice cream pallor I wanted to show you.”

The idea had been to meet Steph after they successfully hunted down Damian’s school supplies, but after a glance at the watch decorating his wrist, Dick would have to cancel – or tell Steph to meet them at the store.

“No, Grayson, I am not satisfied with the quality of this folder. The corners are not properly finished – but I like the color. Do you think this other store has better quality products in the same color range?”

The cashier glanced in their direction again, and Dick wrinkled his nose. Damian couldn’t smell the stank, and Dick was grateful for it – No need for the both of them to suffer.

“I am sure, Damian… let’s go.”

His eyes said everything his smell couldn’t. Damian shrugged his shoulders and marched out of the store, not even nodding politely as he passed the young alpha. Dick was quick to follow, sending an apologetic grin in the direction of the young man.

Yeah, Dick had been uncomfortable in the teenager’s presence, but Damian’s solutions often tended to be a bit… _harsh_. That could be Ra’s fault with his shitty ideas about raising a child, or Damian’s nose, that simply didn’t pick up on half the social cues penetrating the air around them.

Together they walked down the busy street, Damian thinking about something, Dick watching the people around them. Ever since he’d picked up the cowl, there had been a certain disconnect between him and the rest of the world. Batman wasn’t human in the same way Nightwing had been.

Nightwing – and before him Robin – had been inherently human heroes. Heroes, built on community, companionship and hope. Batman felt like security and future – good things, but inherently less human ones.

“Did the man smell bad? Should we go back as Batman and Robin and apprehend him?”

Damian’s question returned Dick to the present, and he turned, only to see Damian watch him with hawk-like eyes.

“What?”

“The man. He made you uncomfortable. I thought… I thought maybe he was dangerous. Or a criminal. We could go back tonight.”

There was something incredibly earnest on Damian’s face – it was adorable and made Dick’s heart bloom with want. It was hard to resist the urge to press Damian’s head against his neck, rubbing his own smell all over the pup… but Dick resisted the temptation. Instead, he smiled and ruffled Damian’s hair, ignoring shouts of indignation:

“No… don’t worry, Dames. He was just a normal – if hormonal – teenager. I’m just a bit scent sensitive right now.”

“Is it because of the suppressants? I read all about the possible side-effects. You should go and find yourself a temporary mate, Grayson. I am sure Harper or West are more than willing to satisfy your needs.”

Dick spluttered, left reeling somewhere between shock and bemusement. What the hell…?

“Did you spend time with Steph again? I told her she should stop discussing my love life with you! Oh my God!”

By now his shock had turned to laughter, Damian probably not really understanding what he had just said. The boy probably thought it was real medical advice that he’d just given… Dick was smiling when he bowed down to whisper in Damian’s ear:

“I am fine, Dames. Yes, the suppressants have side-effects, but they are perfectly safe – and they are not connected to me ‘mating’, I promise.”

 _And I have a mate and I don’t want to sleep with anyone else_ , was a sentence Dick didn’t say out loud. He didn’t want to make it true.

Damian scrunched up his nose, adorable pup that he was, and continued his way down the street. Dick followed – and for once they got lucky: the store carried the perfect folder, and the ice cream pallor next door had ice cream both Dick and Damian liked.

(and Damian didn’t complain about Steph’s presence even once)

* * *

School was a plebian construct for lesser beings, but Damian bore it with poised indifference:

“I don’t want to go to this insane institution anymore.”

Grayson had collected him from the school gates today, walking him home. Damian was both old and trained enough to walk the distance himself, but at least once a week, Grayson went through the effort of fetching him himself.

It was idiotic.

(it made Damian’s insides feel warm)

“That’s what everyone says about school – you’ll get used to it.” Laughed Grayson, something easy in his step for once.

Damian knew Grayson thought he didn’t notice… but Damian wasn’t dumb. He was smelling impaired (and wrong) but he knew how to read the body language of another person. He knew how to read Grayson.

And the man was stressed. Had been since the moment Father died.

There was always something heavy in his gait or something tired in his eyes… Grandfather’s voice in his head told him that that was the case because Grayson was an omega, and omegas were made to carry other things in a healthy society (like children), but his common sense told him that Batman was simply a burden too heavy for anyone human to bear.

Damian had barely known his Father, the most exemplary alpha, and even he had looked crushed and old under the weight of the Cape and the Cowl.

(the more Damian learned about his father, the less he wanted to become like him… it sounded exhausting to be the Batman all the time and never just a man)

But Damian noticed moments like these: When Grayson seemed softer, less burdened… when his eyes looked almost awake.

“Maybe – for once – everyone is right, and school is a hellish system created to torture young and impressionable minds.”

“Did you just admit that you are young? And impressionable?”

Grayson was laughing even harder now, and Damian never wanted the sound to stop. Grayson only rarely laughed – if Damian had to act more childish and below his social class to achieve that, then so be it:

“-tt- I meant all those plebeians in my class, of course.”

“Of course.”

Damian leaned closer towards Grayson, his head almost touching the other’s shoulder – only for the older man’s comfort, naturally – and let Grayson ruffle his hair. It seemed to satisfy Grayson greatly to destroy Damian’s carefully crafted hairdo.

They walked down the streets, Damian already going through all the training exercises he wanted to do once they reached the penthouse, when he heard a yell. Well… it was hard _not_ to hear the yell.

The reporter on the other side of the street had basically screamed in delight when they spotted Damian and Grayson:

“Grayson! Oh my! It’s Grayson and the Wayne pup!”

The entire street was turning around to look at them.

Damian could basically watch as all the glee bled out of Grayson and the weight of the world returned. The reporter jogged across the busy street without a care in the world. Grayson’s eyes were jumping from one side of the street to the other – but like Damian, he was unable to spot an escape.

The reporter came to a halt a few feet away from them, the smile on their face blinding, their purple hair a disgrace:

“Hello, J. Monah, from the Gotham Gazette, can I ask you a few questions?”

On some level Damian understood the importance of good publicity, understood why the Wayne name had to be protected and why biting rude people wasn’t an option… but that didn’t mean, Damian wasn’t tempted.

“Sure…” The reluctance was evident in Grayson’s tone, but Damian knew Grayson wouldn’t dare to decline. The press wasn’t always that polite while discussing famous omegas, and it was even worse when it came to Grayson – his private medical history had once been a national scandal, after all.

“Thank you!” – the reporter barely stopped to smile, before they continued – “And hello to the little Wayne as well! It is an honor to meet you! Now, Richard… how has life with a pup changed you?”

“Excuse you?”

Something changed on Grayson’s face – it was no longer only reluctance tiring him out, something deeper was weighting him down as well.

“Well, you are rather famous for your… _childless adventures_ , aren’t you? But in the past few months Gotham has seen you experience the true blessings of parenthood with a pup of your own! Now, Gotham wants to know: What changed your perspective? Was it the hormones? Is it true what everyone says: nothing is better suited for an omega than the life of a parent?”

Damian could feel his own heart stop, the beta in front of them grinning as if they hadn’t just said what they said. As if they hadn’t just spewed complete bullshit. Damian was fuming – nobody was allowed to talk to Grayson like that!

But before he could jump forward, a hand settled on his shoulder. Grayson. The man had straightened, and now his eyes were aflame with anger – and something else, something smaller and more afraid. But Damian could only see it because he knew the man, for everyone else Grayson’s pain would be hidden:

“Can I please see your ID? And press pass?”

“What?”

“I want to see your ID. So, I can call up the Gotham Gazette editorial and get you fired. Because” – Grayson ignored the indignant squawk the reporter emitted – “these kinds of questions might be acceptable for a gossip rag, but they are not acceptable in polite society. Not in front of a kid, and not in front of someone who didn’t explicitly encourage this line of questioning.”

Grayson pulled in a deep breath, his voice dropping low when he continued:

“You could have asked me a great many things. The charity Wayne Enterprises invested in last week, or the plans to further support the R&D department with an additional two million dollars of funding, for example… Hell, you could even have asked about Damian and how he enjoys school – but, no, you chose to ask me after a subject so… so sexist, I am honestly shocked.”

“I- I…” the reporter stammered, a blush standing high on their cheeks. But Grayson didn’t wait for an answer or an explanation, instead, he brushed past the bumbling beta, Damian following short.

“Expect a call from your boss…. And Good Day. Damian, we are going home.”

If Damian stuck out his tongue, when he ran past the reporter… well, nobody needed to know.

* * *

Dick stared at the wine glass in his hands.

The words of the reporter echoed in his head. Again and Again.

_Is it true what they say: nothing is better suited for an omega than the life of a parent?_

It wasn’t that Dick believed those words, no, quite the contrary… it was the way they made him feel. Sick to his stomach. Sticky. Wrong.

Whenever he thought of them… suddenly his skin fit all wrong. Stuffy and tight and disgusting in a way it hadn’t done before.

Dick had never hated his designation. He had never felt wrong for it – except for those short few months life had grown inside of him. He’d been happy as an omega, most stereotypes unable to touch him. So, why had this one encounter messed with him so badly?

It wasn’t even the first time someone said something like that to him. No, it was even far from the worst thing Dick had ever heard being said about him. People had looked him in the eye, the gala after his first heat, and told him what a great parent he would one day be. People had asked him when he’d planned on mating, when he was barely seventeen, and they’d made uncomfortable comments about his single status ever since (even if his mate had been Kory from the day, he turned twenty-one).

And after… after Dick had aborted Kory’s and his pup the comments had grown more malicious in nature.

But Dick had faced all of that, with his head held high and a stubborn twist to his lips.

But whatever happened today, had really… unbalanced him.

It made him feel sick.

There was a difference between accepting Damian as his pup and being asked if he was happier now that he had given up that foolish belief of wanting a childless existence… _as an omega_. There was a difference between enjoying the familiar love he and his pup shared and the look of satisfaction in the public’s eye as Dick conformed to gender roles, he had been so desperate to break free off.

His stomach lurched, and Dick clutched the wine glass tighter.

He wouldn’t throw up. Not because of this. Not now, not when Damian was sleeping in the room next to his. But what could he do? What was he allowed to do?

Would it be acceptable to cry? Because now, when people looked at him, they didn’t see Dick Grayson defying old standards and outdated ideas… they saw Dick Grayson bow to his body and his needs and his _hormones_.

Nobody said or thought that when an alpha suddenly started to want kids, or when a beta couple adopted a child and dedicated their life to it… no, these people were making a choice, they were brave and cool and worthy of adoration.

Dick was just weak for giving in, for allowing his biology to control him.

He wanted to burn down the world – but that might just have been the wine talking.

Yeah, Dick loved Damian. The boy was his pup. His kid. And yet--- it felt so wrong to give the world what they wanted.

(and Dick didn’t even want that – he had no urge to suddenly birth children of his own. To be honest, the thought kind of sickened him)

Silent tears were running down his cheeks, when Dick heard the prit-prat of bare soles on wooden floor. Damian. He looked up from his spot on the couch, his eyes finding Damian’s even in the dark:

“Hey…”

“Don’t listen to that damned wrench, Grayson. You are fine just the way you are.”

It sounded a bit clumsy, as if Damian had tested the words a couple of times in his head, before he finally said them out loud. Immediately warmth flooded Dick’s system – if only the rest of the world could see what Damian allowed Dick to experience each day.

“Thank you, Dames…”

“It’s not just their words, is it, Grayson?”

“No… not really. Their words are just… part of the problem. Of the way people see me.”

Damian was cautious when he climbed onto the couch next to Dick, and his body was a furnace when he pressed it against Dick’s side. Warm and familiar and _pack_. He almost looked like a normal kid like this – untouched by trauma, pain, and Ra’s al Ghul.

“Can you… can you explain it to me, Grayson? I am not sure I understand. Grandfather always said… No…” Damian trailed off.

It was probably sleepiness causing his disjointed thoughts, and Dick smiled, almost grateful not to be forced to listen to Ra’s opinion on omegas.

“I… I got kind of famous for not wanting kids. And I… I like having you here with me. But… people see us together, they smell my scent on your clothes, and… and they take every choice I ever made for myself away from me. Suddenly I am only my designation, I am no longer Dick, but an omega.”

“So… you don’t like being an omega?”

“But I do! I just… I just hate the way the world looks at us! As if… as if we’re only worth something if we give birth – and even then, half the time we get called whores or sluts or bitches! It’s the double standard! Either a whore or faulty and broken! Either a prude or a slut! Sorry… _Sorry_ , that is nothing you should have to listen to. Nothing a ten-year old should deal with.”

Dick set the glass down, only so he could run his hands through his hair. This was nothing Damian should have to deal with… The boy had already enough trouble in this world of theirs, with a nose like this and his lack of smell.

He didn’t need Dick’s angst as well. He didn’t need to know about the conflicted mess nesting in Dick’s chest.

There were other people Dick could talk to… there was Alfred with his calming alpha scent, and Steph with her no bullshit attitude. And there were Roy and Wally, both more than ready to kick some sense into Dick. There was Garth and his endless tales of water and a world that was a bit fairer.

(and his heart cried for Donna and screamed for Kory. He missed them. Oh, how he missed them)

Damian didn’t need this, not that the boy had ever listened to Dick when it came to things like this.

“I… I understand, I think. I have secrets of my own when it comes… you see, for all the time Grandfather spent on teaching us the natural order of things… he was never happy with me. I was… I was supposed to be like you. Mother told me. When she created me, after she had pursued Father, I was an omega… but Grandfather didn’t like that. He… he messed with my DNA while I was still in Mother’s artificial womb. That’s… That’s why I can’t smell or scent you. At least… that is Mother’s explanation.”

Damian wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were firmly fixed on the glass table standing in front of the couch, on the empty wine glass Dick had left there… Damian wasn’t looking at him, but Dick could see his tiny shoulder’s trembling.

It was only natural to press Damian closer against his side, to hide the crying face in his neck, and to make soothing sounds as Damian expressed his grief for something he couldn’t properly understand – maybe for the first time in his frighteningly short life.

“You’re perfect just the way you are, Damian… I have the feeling not many people have said that in your life… but you are perfect, Damian. No matter your designation, no matter who you become later in life… you are perfect. My Damian, my pup… I love you no matter what you are. Beta, omega, alpha… I don’t care. I just… I just want to see you happy.”

His words made Damian cry harder – but Dick had known they would. Sometimes words of encouragement made you cry – because the relief was too strong to keep it locked away. And Dick… he held Damian, he pressed him close, and kissed his hair, he offered comfort… and in between all this crying, some part of his hurting heart got soothed as well.

Fuck society. Fuck those bastards who thought they could judge Dick. Or Damian. Fuck those assholes who made him hate himself…

Sitting on this couch like this, Damian crying against his chest, Dick didn’t care for pesky reporters or annoying gossip rag columns… he cared for them. His pack. _His family_.

He cared for Tim – who had finally answered his texts last week. For Cass – and the postcard she had sent him sitting on his work desk. For Steph – and the forty-minute voice message she had left him yesterday. For Alfred – and his stiff upper lip. For Jason – who had allowed Batman access to his territory just a few precious days ago.

He cared for Damian – his pup.

This didn’t mean that Dick was okay with the world. This wouldn’t be the last time society forced him to hate himself, the last time an article would hit too close to home, or a question would break his heart… but for now, Dick was alright.

They were alright.

* * *

Damian returned from a meeting with Colin Wilkes – he hadn’t yet decided what would suffice an appropriate name for the boy – to a dark penthouse.

Which was… concerning, simply because Grayson had decided to stay home today, after a detonating bomb hurled him into a wall during yesterday’s patrol. Well… Pennyworth had decided that Grayson would stay at home today.

The butler hadn’t even listened to Grayson’s compelling argument (“But Alfie… I saved at least a thousand lives yesterday… I should be allowed to get coffee with Babs”) and when Damian had been on his way out of the door, the last he had seen of his guardian was his sulking figure laying on the couch.

Now… every light was turned down, and only silence greeted him.

While his lack of smell wasn’t the source for all of Damian’s insecurities any more – hadn’t been just that since the night Grayson and he had spent crying in the living room together like a bunch of babies – he knew… a sense of smell would be useful right now, if only to verify his assumption that he was alone, without having to raise his voice.

“Pennyworth? Grayson? Where are you? This is not funny.”

It was Pennyworth, who basically materialized in front of Damian, a pinched look on his face. In the beginning of his time in Gotham, Damian would have interpreted said look as a slight against him… over the months he had come to understand it as worry:

“What is going on? Pennyworth?”

“I would be grateful if you could lower your voice, Master Damian. Master Richard has fallen ill with a migraine – triggered by that hit against his head. He is now resting in his room, but light and noise are rather painful for him at the moment, so, please be cautious.”

Pennyworth had whispered the entire time he spoke, his voice never losing its force and pronunciation, even at the low volume. Something clicked inside Damian’s head:

“You knew… you knew he would get a migraine. That’s why you told him to stay in the penthouse.”

“Yes, Master Richard was prone to migraines as a child – they still like to return, especially after head trauma. But now… if you could please remain quiet for the rest of the day? You can, of course, also join me on my trip to the supermarket to fetch some medicine?”

Damian shook his head. He would rather quietly draw, than experience a common supermarket. People always stared when he entered one, either because he smelled like Grayson – or because he smelled like not enough.

The penthouse was saver.

“So, be it… I prepared tea and cake for you in the kitchen, young sir.”

Damian took the offered goods back to his room, when he passed the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, darkness bleeding from the room into the hallway… somewhere in there, Grayson was suffering. Somewhere in there, Grayson was in pain.

Damian had almost reached his own door, when he heard Grayson’s faint summon:

“Dames? Is that you?”

After placing the tray on the floor, Damian returned to the threshold of Grayson’s room on silent feet. His own voice was barely above a whisper when he answered the omega:

“Yes. What do you want?”

“Can you… can you come here? The lights should stay switched off… but you could-?”

Damian didn’t answer – instead, he simply pushed deeper into the darkness, entering Grayson’s domain. This was his nest, Damian never even having dared to enter it before, and even his numb nose could pick up the concentrated smell of Grayson that surrounded him, penetrating everything. It was a comforting smell – a bit like home, a bit like freedom.

He stopped once he reached the bed, his eyes slowly getting used to the dark. Grayson was a vaguely human shaped mountain of blankets, only strands of his dark hair sticking out from under the covers. He looked miserable – and Damian couldn’t even see the sheen of sweat or the pallor of sickly skin.

“And now…?”

“Would… would you be so nice and cuddle with me?”

“I do not want to hurt you, Grayson.”

And Damian meant it. Grayson was a force as Batman, a powerful entity and a sight to behold… but right now, Grayson looked rather pitiful and Damian didn’t want to make it worse.

“You won’t. Just be cautious… but, I don’t want to be alone right now.”

That was all it took – Damian climbed into bed next to Grayson, fiddling with the blankets until he could feel the heat radiating from Grayson. Almost immediately after first contact, Grayson pulled him closer, his pained breath ghosting over Damian’s hair.

Damian could feel himself relax.

“Tell me something.”

“You have a migraine, Grayson. From what I understand, I should do anything _but_ tell you something.”

“But I wanna hear your voice…” Grayson whined… and Damian complied:

“I… I visited Colin Wilkes today after school. He is an interesting person. Someone… I might consider talking to more often. He has complex opinions on a broad variety of topics…”

“Did you make a friend, Dames?”

“He is not my _friend_!”

“Ouch…”

“I am sorry… I can-“

Damian hadn’t wanted to hurt-! He-! Is was an accident!

But before he could bail and run, Grayson’s hand had found his head, patting Damian’s hair and calming him down:

“Stay… and maybe you are right… maybe we should just nap together. That is almost as good talking…”

Damian could basically feel Grayson’s eyes drift shut, his breathing evening out… and he stayed, tightly hugged by Grayson’s arms, warm and save… surrounded by Grayson’s smell and love and being.

Damian still may never be able to feel what exactly being in a pack felt like. But here...besides Grayson – Richard? - Damian had learnt what _home_ felt like. Home felt like Richard's embrace. It felt like the soft voice that would tell Damian he was cherished.

And if pack meant anything including _that_ , well...Damian might never get enough of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Bookmarks and Kudos make my heart beat faster! <3


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